


Song Fics

by naomi_winchester



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU - alternate universe, Cheating, Cheating Castiel, Chuck Shurley's A+ Parenting, Hurt, Hurt Lucifer, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, One Night Stands, Song Lyrics, Song fics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-11-04 23:35:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11001351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naomi_winchester/pseuds/naomi_winchester
Summary: These are just a bunch of song fics that I happen to absolutely LOVE to write. It's one of my fave type of things to write. I can't post them on FFN though, so sorry if any of you wanted an easy way to read this offline (because they're crazy about not letting people post song fics, let alone a collection of them).I have like, 900 songs, so if you want to skip to a certain chapter of whatever type of song fic you're hankering for, just check the chapter list, I'll put the name of the song and the pairing at the title.DISCLAIMER: I DIDN'T WRITE ANY OF THESE SONGS (because come on, why do we even need these? I'm not Adam Levine writing fanfiction lol)Needless to say every chapter there will be a disclaimer at the end so I don't get in trouble or whatever.Enjoy!





	1. Before He Cheats - Destiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before He Cheats - Carrie Underwood
> 
> Cas has been cheating on Dean, and Dean's known for a while.
> 
> He gets tired of it real quick. 
> 
> (There will be a sequel chapter to this.)

Dean knew that Castiel was being unfaithful when he started to avoid looking him in the eyes. Dean knew him well enough that he knew Cas was entirely guilty of something when he avoided eye contact, which he had only ever done once to Dean, when he didn't tell his family about Dean right away. That situation was quickly resolved though.

They had gotten together when they were sixteen. They had flirted and teased circles around each other until Dean had asked if he wanted it to be something, and Cas was the one to instigate their first kiss as an answer. They both graduated, moved in together into an apartment, and they had both gotten jobs, Dean as a mechanic at Singer's Auto Repair and Castiel as a business man, a tax accountant. Soon they moved into a home, mostly from Castiel's money, and it was a really nice house, with two floors and everything had been renovated. It was practically brand new.

It was home. Cas and Dean would make love and watch movies together and just love each other wholeheartedly. They trusted each other with their lives.

Then Cas started coming home later, hugged Dean less and started loving him less. Dean started sleeping on his own side of the bed, and sometimes it would still be just him when he woke up. Sometimes Cas would be there, but even at the distance he kept from Dean, he could still smell the sickly sweet perfume and sweat on his lover. His heart was breaking as he recognized all the signs.  
During all of this, Dean wondered, what was he supposed to do?

At first, Dean would call. He would worry, frantically dialing, just worried out of his mind that something had happened to Cas. Castiel soon turned his phone off, which Dean recognized after calling and immediately getting the voicemail box about a hundred times.  
Soon he accepted the truth and stopped calling.

It was in the middle another sleepless night of Castiel never coming home that he made his decision.

Castiel loved his car. Dean could empathize with that, considering the great adoration he had of Baby, his Impala '67. Cas had a different style though, with his fancy, expensive black Ferrari (and gee if that didn't make Dean disgusted, but since he loved Cas, and Cas loved the car, he ignored it), but currently, he wasn't driving it, preferring to take a taxi everywhere he went. Dean, of course, knew that this was because if Dean wanted to, he could track his GPS to wherever he'd been going these past few months.

So it sat in the back garage, and it hasn't been looked at once since the whole thing started. It was almost as if Castiel had forgotten. But sometimes he saw him glance longingly at the garage door, even if he never opened it.

Dean turned on the back porch light, snatching the keys off the hook and the baseball bat in the corner before jogging down the stairs and punching in the numbers to the garage door, watching as the automatic door slowly opened, revealing the dusty black Ferrari in all of its horrendous glory, sitting exactly where it was parked months ago. No fingerprints had disturbed the thick layer of dust on the surface, further proving to Dean that Castiel had avoided the car to prevent himself from driving it.

Dean walked into the garage and shut the door, turning on the lights.

First things first- taking out the battery. He definitely didn't want the cops being called because the car alarm went off, waking up the neighborhood at one in the morning. He opened the hood, carefully untangling wires and lifting the battery out of the car, slamming the hood.

Here comes the fun part.

He lifts up the bat and swings, putting a good fucking dent in the car. He swings at the headlights, shattering them. They'll need to be replaced, definitely. Hell, by the time he's finished with Castiel's car it'll never be able to be fixed, and Dean thinks that's perfect. He starts talking after the first few hits, angry, tears welling up in his eyes and pouring down his cheeks. "This is for leaving me! This one's for not answering my calls! And this one, this is for when you _stopped loving me!"_ Dean shouted in anguish as he hit the windshield, cracking it, but not yet shattering it.

He grabs the keys from his pockets, opening up the busted door of the awful Ferrari, and he starts carving into the front driver's seat with fervor, carving something that Cas will never forget.

Just his name. _Dean._ Kind of appropriate, right? It seems like Cas has forgotten him, and everything they had, so why not remind him?  
After it's done he climbs out of the car, taking one last swing with the bat at the windshield and watching in satisfaction as the glass rains down on the seat and everywhere else.

Then - just out of pure spite - he takes the keys and slashes them through the rubber of each tire.

Now, for the big reveal, Dean thinks, giving a smirk as he goes inside, ready to spend the rest of the night packing his things.  
He's not staying in a two story house by himself, especially not one that Castiel bought. Dean calls Bobby and asks if he can stay at his place for a while, just until he get's his own place. Bobby, God bless him, doesn't ask any questions or complain about the time and just says, "Of course, Dean. You're always welcome here."

Bobby comes in his truck to pick up all of the boxes and take them to his place, but Dean stays.

He's got one last thing to do.

+++++

Cas is a mess when he gets home. He still hasn't showered off the scent of sex and Meg's perfume, and all of his clothes are filthy, hair sticking up at odd angles from where Meg pulled it.

Three months.

Three months of cheating on Dean. He knows he's a horrible person for ever doing it to his sweet and precious Dean, the Dean that he fell in love with in high school, that he's always loved. But when he sees Meg, he can't help himself. He knows what they have isn't love but it's something that excites him, makes him feel like he's more than what he actually is.

Then it always comes back to the question: When did Dean stop making him feel that way?

The answer was never. Dean always made him feel that way. The real question was when did Cas stop appreciating what he had?

Cas sighed as he got out of the taxi, paying his fare before walking up the porch steps.

Too soon.

He opens the door, looking around. It looks different, but then again, he doesn't really pay attention to anything in the house anyway. His heart clenches at the thought of Dean. How many times had he left Dean alone in this huge house? Cas looks to the left and sees Dean sitting on a stool on the counter, phone sitting innocently next to him on the counter.

Cas knows that he probably called while he was out and that makes it worse.

Cas studies Dean for the first time in months, and he doesn't like what he sees. Dark circles under his eyes, emotions close to the surface of them, and a fake smile when he sees Cas to top it all off. "Cas!" Dean jumps down from the stool and hugs him close, and when Cas hugs him back, he can feel the tense muscles in Dean's back.

Thankfully, Dean doesn't try to kiss him. Cas doesn't know if he could handle Dean kissing him when he's contaminated by Meg everywhere.

When was the last time they kissed?

Dean backs up slowly, studying him with critical eyes and for a half-second, Cas thinks he knows. Then all he says is, "Get showered, you stink. We're going on a date. I feel like it's been too long." Cas sighs in relief. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," Dean says cryptically. "Dress casual, okay?"

Cas looks at him for a moment. "Alright," he relents and leaves to go shower off his sins.

As he leaves, Dean nearly bursts into tears. But he keeps his cool because he knows that soon it'll all be over and then he can cry. Alone, yes, but it's better that showing weakness to the person that broke everything he had into little pieces of nothing. He's now worth nothing. Cas was his everything.

He's Dean's downfall.

+++

Dean and Cas sit in the Impala, a heavy silence between them.

Dean doesn't say anything out of fear that he might just end up crying - and then the game would be over. His hands tighten on the wheel, knuckles white.

Cas doesn't say anything out of fear of accidentally revealing his betrayal to Dean - he couldn't break his heart like that. He drummed his fingers against his leg, anxious.

Dean pulls into a karaoke bar, and Cas finally chuckles. "You gonna sing for me, Dean?" he teases. Dean's face pulled into a considering look. Finally, he shrugs. "Something like that." Then he gets out of the car and slams the door, making Cas flinch. He sits in the passenger seat for a few more seconds before getting out and following Dean into the bar.

They pick a table that's near the middle of the room, sitting, and when the waiter comes by, Dean orders a beer and Cas gets the same. They both sip at their beer when it comes, and Cas comes to the conclusion that neither of them knows what to say.

He sighs in relief when Dean glances at the stage, then raises his eyebrows at Cas before leaving the table to go sing. He goes up, and scrolls through songs, and after what felt like an hour, he finally settles on one, starting it and going up to the mic.

The music starts up, and immediately Cas can tell it's country. It differs from what Dean usually listens to, but he smiles anyway, encouraging him.

He'll wish he hadn't.

Dean looks out at the crowd, all of their eyes on him. Good. His eyes snap to Cas.

He deserves it.

The song starts out calm and collected.

 _"Right now, he's probably slow dancing with a bleach blonde tramp and she's probably getting frisky..."_ His eyes flick around the bar, and God, he feels like he's finally in control, all of their eyes going from him to Castiel. _"Right now, he's probably buying her some fruity little drink cause she can't shoot whiskey."_ He can see Cas, he can see the exact moment that the fear sets in. _"Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick trying to shoot a combo..."_ Dean drawls.

He grins, _"And he don't know..."_ Castiel sits up straighter at the words, terrified.

 _"That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up four wheel drive! Carved my name into his leather seats..."_ Dean sings it with defiance and Castiel doesn't doubt a word of it, face crumbling. Even worse, there's more of the damn song. _"I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, slashed a hole in all four tires!"_

Dean looks barely apologetic as he looks Cas up and down and sings, _"Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats."_

Dean looks away now, at the crowd instead, all of them enthralled with Dean's performance. _"Right now, she's probably up singing some white-trash version of Shania karaoke."_ Dean holds up a finger as if to say, 'you know, I can bet that', _"Right now, she's probably saying, 'I'm drunk' and he's a-thinking that he's gonna get lucky."_ The crowd cheers as he almost shouts, _"Right now, he's probably dabbing on three dollars worth of that bathroom polo..."_

Dean shakes his head and laughs. _"And he don't know!"_ he sings, taking the wireless mic off of the stand, _"That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up four wheel drive! Carved my name into his leather seats!"_ Dean looks at the crowd, dead serious as he sings, _"I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, slashed a hole in all four tires!"_

He shrugs as he looks back at Cas. _"Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats." He taps his foot to the beat of the song. Waiting before singing, "I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl!"_ He walks to the front of the stage, standing at the very edge. He leans in close to the audience, _"Because the next time that he cheats, oh, you know it won't be on me."_

He jumps down from the stage gently, his boots hitting the ground and kicking up dust. _"No, not on me."_ He shakes his head as he almost croons this lyric, doing a little circle to see everyone, not going near Cas just yet.

 _"'Cause I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped up four wheel drive! Carved my name into his leather seats..."_ Dean continues to sing the song and this feels amazing. All those sleepless nights almost seem worth it for this very moment. The look on Castiel's face as he sings, _"I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, slashed a hole in all four tires!"_

Except it wasn't worth it.

He loved Castiel with everything he had and Castiel threw it back in his face by sleeping with someone else.

_"Maybe next time he'll think before he cheats."_

His cold gaze lands on Castiel, who looks ashamed like nothing before and Dean can't find any sympathy within him.

 _"Oh, maybe next time he'll think..."_ Dean walks up to what was their table, pausing before Cas. He pulls Castiel's car keys out of his jean pockets, gently setting them on the table. The audience goes quiet. _"Before he cheats..."_

He gives the mic to an audience member next to their table and walks out of the door, not looking back at Cas once.  
Cas swallows down his guilt and lets Dean leave, hearing the roar of the Impala fade as it drove away. With all the eyes of the bar on him, he gets up, hesitating before picking up the keys from the table. He sighs as he puts them in one of the pockets of his trench coat, pushes in his chair and makes his way out of the bar.

Then he starts walking back home.

++++

Cas stays home for the next two weeks, taking vacation time from work and completely ignoring Meg.

If only he had done that the first time.

He has dark stubble on his chin, hair unruly and unbrushed, and he's wearing pajamas that he's worn the past two weeks. He hasn't changed his bed sheets because they still smell like Dean and he doesn't want to let him go.

Except he's gone. He's gone because Castiel went and fucked some slut that 'made him feel alive'. Castiel discovered that with Dean gone, he's never felt more dead, and he knows with everything he is that there's nothing Meg could possibly make him feel now.

He is nothing.

He cries and sobs at night because _how could he make Dean feel like this?_ Like he's unwanted, unloved, and just some piece of shit that made the wrong choices?

Castiel is Dean's wrong choice.

He wants to swim in a bottomless pit of nothing because that's what he is, he wants to do his time and he never wants his sentence to end because _God,_ he deserves it.

Yet at the same time he wants to be held, wants to be loved, and he wants to be forgiven. Dean had given the best hugs and kisses, loved him like no one was ever loved in the history of humanity and he threw it away.

He has to fix this.

He gives an ironic smile as he grabs his car keys, ready to face the truth.

-

The beginning of the truth hurts a lot more than expected.

And it's not the car itself, really. He had loved his car but now that love seemed petty and small compared to the love he had with Dean. Practically nonexistent, now that he really considered it.

What hurts is the name carved into the seats, just as Dean said.

But he doesn't cry. He knows almost for a fact that when Dean did this he was crying, sobbing and screaming at the world because how could this be fair? It was Dean's pain. Dean is and was hurting more than Castiel will ever know, and he's not allowed to half-ass sob over his problems where someone that was very important to him had hurt much greater.

He takes a nearby towel and starts wiping away the glass from the seats, careful to get all of the little pieces, then sets a new towel down on the driver's seat just to be sure he won't get speared in the butt on his way to the auto shop. There's really nothing he can do about the broken headlights or the dents, so he just starts the car-

Or not. Jesus, what did Dean do to this car? Not that he didn't deserve it, he thinks as he gets out and opens up the hood.

Immediately he discovers the problem.

Dean took out his battery. Castiel snorts. Smart. He puts it back in properly, doing a once-over before slamming the hood shut and getting back in the car. When he turns the key in the ignition this time, the engine purrs, and that makes Castiel laugh. If you were blind, you'd think the car was perfectly fine.

He starts to back out, or tries to.

Right. _"Slashed a hole in all four tires!"_

He sighs and turns off the engine before calling the tow company to come pick his car up.

Oh well. It's not like he doesn't deserve it.

When the tow truck guy shows up, he gives the car a strange look before looking at Cas. "Hit and run?" Cas doesn't say anything but shakes his head, looking at the guy's nametag (Chuck Shurley), knowing he must look ridiculous in his PJ's and his worn trench coat, with no shoes.

The guy, Chuck, raises his eyebrows. "Ex?"

Cas nods. "He didn't appreciate my... habits." Chuck's eyebrows went even higher. "You want me to call the cops? Press charges?" Castiel is already shaking his head again. "I deserve it."

Chuck's eyes soften, and he nods. "Alright. You want a ride?"

Cas looks up, startled. "I... That would be very helpful."

Chuck gives him a once-over. "Get dressed into some cleaner stuff and put some shoes on, and get in the front. I'll meet you there after I hook this up," he said, jabbing his thumb in the car's direction.

Cas nods before heading inside to change.

When Castiel comes back out he's in a clean blue t-shirt and jeans, the trench coat on, but it smells fresher after a few sprays of Hawaiian Breeze air freshener. He's also applied deodorant, Chuck's mind supplied him, because he couldn't have taken a shower in such a short amount of time, but he definitely smells better than before.

"Buckle up," Chuck says, starting the engine. "Singer's Auto Repair?"

"Yeah," Cas says, voice hoarse.

_____________

Chuck smiles and shakes his hand before he leaves Cas to himself at the auto shop, who's nervous as hell.

He finds himself clenching his trench coat tight in his fist as Dean walks outside to see who's next, and he swallows hard when their eyes meet.

Dean's stance stiffens as his gaze goes from the car to Cas. "...Castiel?"

Cas' eyes well up with tears when Dean calls him by his full name.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

He doesn't even notice as Dean comes closer. "...Cas?" When his eyes flicker back to Dean, he's gotten so close it hurts, the concern that he doesn't deserve clear in Dean's eyes. He can't help it.

Cas cries, burying his face in his hands and just sobs. He's missed Dean so much and here he is, standing here. He doesn't know how he ever willingly left Dean to go to work. To go to Meg. To go anywhere because Dean is _home_.

Before he knows it, he's blubbering, " _Dean._ Missed you, I miss us. M'Sorry. Sorry, sorry, _sorry-_ " Soon he's just apologizing over and over, because what else can he do? He rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, pressing them hard into his sockets. "Wanted to be your world, Dean, and I fucked it up," he mumbles. "Wanted to be your everything, and I let you down." He sobs again. "I miss you so fucking much, haven't slept. Can't sleep without you, Dean. You're my everything and I didn't treat you like it and I miss you." Cas knows it's all just a bunch of word-vomit but he can't stop it from coming out. "Love you, Dean. I don't love her, _hate_ her. I loved you from the moment I met you and I left you alone like some sort of house pet and it's not what you deserved and I deserve everything you did. Hate this car. _I hate it._ I hate it and everything it stands for. I'd never forget you, Dean. _Never._ I love you so much, Dean." Dean opens his mouth to say something but _Cas isn't finished._ "I miss your scent. I miss having you there when I came home from work. I miss your smiles, your kisses. I don't ever want to come home and see you disappointed like that, not ever again. I don't wanna see a fake smile, or those stupid circles under your eyes because you couldn't sleep knowing I was with her. I miss you, Dean, I love you, and I don't ever wanna hurt you again." Finished, Cas continues to cry, sniffling pitifully in the middle of the lot next to his piece-of-shit car.

Dean is floored. He expected some half-assed excuse, but instead, he's got a full-out confession, and so much more.

He wasn't prepared for this.

 _"Cas..."_ he breathes, hands falling uselessly to his sides.


	2. Never Be Like You - Destiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Never Be Like You' - Flume
> 
> Cas knows that Dean hasn't forgiven him yet.
> 
> Maybe if he takes a page out of Dean's book he'll get a bit closer to being forgiven...
> 
> Pt. 2 to Before He Cheats

For their first date after... the incident, Cas takes Dean back to the karaoke place. 

Cas isn't stupid, he knows that Dean hasn't even begun to forgive him. He can see it in his stance, the way he tenses when they come to a stop in front of the bar, the questions in his eyes when turns them to Cas. 

"Castiel?" 

And _that._ Dean hasn't called him 'Cas' for a long time. Only that once in the lot, Cas crying his eyes out and begging for forgiveness.

Before that, Cas can't remember the last time he was 'Cas'. 

And he deserves it, he really does.

But he misses being 'Cas' to Dean. He misses the familiarity and warmth that came with that shortened version of his name. He misses Dean.

So here he is, not answering or acknowledging Dean's questions, climbing out of his rental car (the Ferrari was still getting fixed, not that Cas even cared at this point), opening Dean's door and leading him inside.

He sits them at the old table. The one where it all started. 

_'Or ended,'_ Cas thought bitterly.

They both sit, tensely ordering what drinks they wanted, Cas only taking a brief sip before heading up to the stage. Dean turns, watching him walk up with curiosity and pain in his gaze.

Cas quickly finds and chooses his song, having thought about it for a long time. 

The music starts, light and airy compared to the heaviness in Castiel's voice as he sings the first verse.

 _"What I would do to take away this fear of being loved, allegiance to the pain? Now I fucked up, and I'm missing you..."_ He looks up at Dean fiercely, trying to convey every emotion he has in his body. _"She'll never be like you."_ Dean looks dumbfounded, jaw slack, his perfect lips in an 'O'.

 _"I would give anything to change,"_ he sings to Dean, _"this fickle minded heart that loves fake shiny things... Now I fucked up and I'm missing you."_

He sings even softer, _"She'll never be like you."_

And what he sings is true. Meg will never be Dean. She never held him tight. She never kissed him tenderly, hugged him like she missed him. She never worried about him late at night when she shouldn't have had to. She never told Cas, "I love you." She never cried over him. She never met his parents, never lived with Cas. She never got his name right, not once ("Clarence, come back to bed..."). She wasn't Dean. She would never be like Dean.

Cas leans into the mic, singing desperately, _"I'm only human, can't you see? I ma-I made a mistake, please just look me in my face, tell me everything's okay... 'Cause I got it. Oh, she'll never be like you."_ He repeats the verse again, unknowingly capturing the audience with the longing and desperation in his low baritone, but Cas is so lost in the song, in the feelings, to know until he opens his eyes.

Dean is frozen to his seat, hand clutching his beer tightly as his lip trembles at the sight that Castiel is. 

_"Why do I make you want to stay? Hate sleeping on my own, missing the way you taste..."_ Castiel admits through the mic, and Dean remembers Cas' own words, "I miss you so fucking much, haven’t slept. Can’t sleep without you, Dean. "

_"Now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you... She'll never be like you."_

Those lyrics remind Dean of why everything had to be this way, and his gaze hardens. 

It's like Castiel read his mind with the next words he sings. 

_"Stop looking at me with those eyes, like I could disappear and you wouldn't care why."_ Cas looks devastated, and Dean knows that with everything he's done, he deserves to be looked at like that. 

But it doesn't mean that it didn't hurt him every time Dean looked at him like he was nothing.

_"Now I'm fucked up and I'm missing you."_

He turns his sapphire gaze to Dean's emerald eyes, and their eyes lock, for what feels like infinity.

_"She'll never be like you."_

He takes the mic off of the stand, pacing the stage. _"I'm only human can't you see? I ma-I made a mistake, please just look me in my face, tell me everything's okay. 'Cause I got it, oh, she'll never be like you."_ He repeats it again, this time jumping off of the stage and walking towards Dean, coming to a stop as he sings, _"She'll never be like you."_

The music slows, and all Dean can do is watch as Castiel falls to his knees in front of him, everyone's eyes on the two. 

_"I'm falling on my knees, forgive me, I'm a fucking fool."_ He shifts his gaze down, ashamed. _"I'm begging darling please, absolve me of my sins, won't you?"_ His eyes flit up to meet Dean's, a different kind of desperation that he's never seen before in Cas.

 _"Oh... I'm falling on my knees, forgive me, I'm a fucking fool..."_ His voice gets higher. _"I'm begging darling please-"_

The song is interrupted with a kiss, Dean leaning down and capturing Cas' lips in a tender kiss, the microphone slipping from Castiel's hand to the floor as he slides his hands into Dean's hair. The audience is clapping, giving wolf-whistles. 

Dean and Cas can't hear them, too busy in their own world. 

"I'm sorry," Dean says, hoarse.

"It's okay," Cas whispers back, "as long as you keep holding me like this."

Dean gives him a sultry grin, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "If we head home now, I'll hold you a lot tighter than this." 

Cas' breath stutters as he moves back, eyes wide. He grabs Dean's hand. "Let's go, then."

They both get up, Dean leaving money for the drinks and they race to get home, to become as close as they possibly can, cheers chasing them out the door.

**fin.**


	3. Scars - Lucifer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scars - Allison Iraheta
> 
> Lucifer sings in a bar, deciding to get something off his chest to people who don't know the significance of anything about it, but unknowingly to him, Chuck sits in the bar like any other night.  
> Chuck would know that voice anywhere.  
> (This is before Chuck is revealed to be God.)

Lucifer was on a mission, that was true. It was one that the Winchester's seemed intent on destroying, and maybe for good reason, considering that he was going to completely wipe the human race from the beautiful world that his father had created.

_His father._

Thinking about him still made Lucifer sad and _angry._

He looked around him at the various humans milling around, giving a chuckle. In truth, he was much like them. Sad and angry all the time, waiting for a fight. He frowned, remembering his brother, Gabriel.

**_Oh, Gabriel. I wasn't ready, I didn't mean to-_ **

How he would take it all back. Lucifer wished he could.

But once an angel dies, archangel or not, only God could bring them back, and it seemed that God didn't want to be found.

Not by him, anyway.

He walks the streets, temporarily distracted by buildings and names. One says, "Joel's Karaoke Bar," and Lucifer thinks it's kind of interesting. _Might as well have some fun with 'em before I end them,_ he thought.

Lucifer slips in unnoticed, and not one of the mud-monkeys looks up when he goes on stage. Despite his long-lasting anger at them, he dismisses it.

It's not like they'll be alive to remember him anyway.

Rather than bothering to try and figure out modern human technology, he snaps his fingers and it turns on, and with another snap, the perfect song comes on and the mic is in his hand. Finding the perfect song with his grace came easily to him because after all, angels were the first to create music.

The perfect song starts with soft acoustic guitar, and Lucifer kind of smiles as he starts to sing. _"Did I say something stupid? There goes one more mistake..."_ The bar is stunned into silence the moment he begins, all heads turning his way, and for a moment Lucifer is suddenly uncharacteristically shy, hesitating. But he keeps it up, singing shakily but beautifully, _"Do I bore you with my problems? Is that why you turn away?"_

_**Michael barely looks up from his work as Lucifer toddles in, small wings fluttering with every step. "Mikey?" he hears the little angel ask softly. "No, Lucifer," Michael replies in monotone. Lucifer gains a hurt look that Michael never saw, but just as quickly as it arrived, it was gone. "You didn't even hear what I was gonna ask!" he complains.** _

_**Michael sighs before turning to face him. "You were going to ask about Father,** **if he was going to come home anytime soon, and he's not."**_

_**Lucifer's wings droop, and almost immediately Michael feels bad, but now there's nothing he can do. "I was just going to ask for a story... but I guess you're busy." He starts to leave, but for a moment, he** **stops** **_a_ nd turns to look at Michael. ** _

_**He's already back to** **work,** ** _l_ ike Lucifer had never walked in in the first place.**_  


_"Do you know how **hard** I've tried to become what you want me to be?"_ He sings, and it's like he's a child all over again, just a fledgling. Suddenly he misses Dad, Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael. He misses all of his brothers and sisters. He feels the pain of all of the fallen angels, the ones that never made it home because they were killed by another sibling.He remembers trying to be the angel he was made to be. He remembers being in the cage and pleading for his Father to save him from the flames.

He never came.

Lucifer promised himself he would never need his Father again.

And yet, in this odd human place, he offers himself up once again.

 _"Take me, this is all that I've got. This is all that I'm not, all that I'll ever be..."_ Lucifer's eyes drift to his feet. _"I've got flaws, I've got faults, keep searching for your perfect heart!"_ The feeling of never being enough bleeds into his voice and every single human in this bar would never forget the sound. Lucifer looks at all of them. They could be forgiven. Why couldn't he? _"It doesn't matter who you are... We all have our scars, we all have our scars,"_ he sings softly.

He looks up at the crowd defiantly as he paces the stage, mic in hand. _"You say don't act like a child... but what if it's a father I need?"_ He hears a soft gasp from the crowd, and his sharp eyes narrow on one man. He was short and had curly gray-ish hair, and he sits at the bar, a half-empty glass in his hand. His eyes hold to some greater pain, something ancient. Lucifer keeps his eyes locked to his as he sings, _"It's not like you don't know what you got yourself into. Don't tell me I'm the one who's naïve!"_ Lucifer moves closer to the edge of the stage, finding himself angry at this man.

It feels incredibly personal when he sings, _"Do you know how **hard** I've tried to become what you want me to be?"_

Chuck swallows. It's almost like Lucifer knows, staring at him with accusing eyes, and God, he feels guilty. Like every choice he's made is ready to swallow him up and end his existence right then and there. 

The truth was that Lucifer was already everything he wanted him to be. 

The ultimate sacrifice.

And here he is, singing, _"Take me, this is all that I've got. This is all that I'm not, all that I'll ever be. I've got flaws, I've got faults, keep searching for your perfect heart!"_ He almost spits out the lyrics at this tiny, drunk, disheveled man and he almost feels sorry for the guy but at the same time, there's such a strong dislike in him for the stranger that he can't help himself.

 _"It doesn't matter who you are, we all have our scars, we all have our scars..."_ Lucifer thinks of Michael, daddy's little soldier. He followed Father's every world. 

Perfect to a fault.

Lucifer and Michael were both in their true forms when Lucifer was to be thrown into the pit. Lucifer had held onto Michael's arms with what would have been claws, and begged and pleaded for him **_please don't do this I love you I'm sorry I'll be better-_ **

Michael struck him down into the pit that day, but he would never be able to get rid of the moon crescent marks down his arms where Lucifer had held on for dear life. 

_"Come on, just let it go. These are things you can't control. Your expectations, your explanations don't make sense to me!"_ God's plan never made sense to Lucifer. The never have and they never would. He gave Lucifer the mark, and banished him when he became evil. What else was the mark supposed to do?

He stares at this stupid man in this stupid bar and he finds himself confessing everything he's ever felt. _"You and your alternatives, don't send me to your therapist! Deep down I know what you mean, and I'm not sure that's who I wanna be..."_

Lucifer's not sure if he wants to fight his brother. 

He's not sure if he wants to obliviate the human race.

He's not sure he wants to live.

He's not sure he wants to die.

_"Oh, oh, no..."_

Lucifer collapses to his knees in front of his father.

_"Take me. This is all that I've got, this is all that I'm not, all that I'll ever be. I've got flaws, I've got faults! Keep searching for your perfect heart!"_

Chuck looks him in the eye, and knows that Lucifer knows.

His perfect Morningstar, his most beloved son.

_"We all have our scars."_

Lucifer looks down at his knees, still kneeling in front of the room.

His voice is almost a whisper.

_"Did I say something stupid?"_

He looks up, ice blue eyes capturing Chuck's ones.

_"There goes one more mistake..."_


	4. IDGAF - (Morgan x Reid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IDGAF - Dua Lipa
> 
> This ones a short one :)

Derek hovers around Spencer’s desk again, and it takes everything in the genius to not react, to just keep writing his report of their latest case. His hand tightens on the pencil, the wood of it bending a bit under the strain, his words getting darker as he presses harder on the paper in anger.

“Spencer…” Derek starts, “I-”

“No,” Spencer cuts him off, words spilling out of his mouth at a rapid rate, but Derek hears every word, along with the team, who are all talking in the bullpen. “Your chance is gone, and let me tell you why: Remember the weekend where you didn’t come home with me? I went to go find you but instead, I found out you were spending your time sleeping around with someone else. I spent it crying. So don’t you sit here and try to apologize to me, or blame it on the alcohol. You’ve made your bed, so sleep in it. It might be cold and empty and lonely, but that’s your own damn fault.” Morgan’s hurt and shocked expression don’t satisfy him at all, and it makes Spencer’s hands clench into fists as he tries to control himself. He stands, staring at Derek defiantly. “I don’t need your love,” he states matter of factly, then, softly to himself, “I’ve already cried enough.” Morgan’s face falls, but there’s nothing he can say to fix it, so he stays quiet.

Spencer turns back to his desk and quickly gathers what he needs to take home, and turns back to Morgan, anger overcoming the sadness that had been there moments before.

“So you say you’re sorry, but it’s too late now, so save it, sit down, and shut up,” Spencer says, anger bright in his eyes. “Because if you honestly think I care about you now…” he shakes his head in disbelief, before looking Derek straight in the eyes and saying, “I don’t give a fuck.” He roughly brushes past Derek, knocking into his shoulder as he shoves his way to the elevator, but Derek is too heavy with guilt to move, to even watch him leave.

As soon as the elevator doors close, all eyes are on Derek. As he looks back at all of the disappointed eyes, he knows that he’s on his own with this. 


	5. Don't Say - Johnlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't Say - The Chainsmokers
> 
> John always said that Sherlock wasn't human. 
> 
> Maybe he was right.

The morning it all came tumbling down, they were drinking coffee. John had a tight grip on his mug, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if it would crack under the pressure. Sherlock sat in his chair, looking nonchalant as ever as he delicately sipped at his own mug of black brew.

John lets out a heavy sigh, trying to contain any tears of frustration, and at the sound, Sherlock’s eyes flick to meet his for the first time this morning.

John tensed as he remembers the night before.

_Both hazy, drunken messes, John collapses on the couch with Sherlock, nearly landing on his lap, giggling. Sherlock smiles one of those rare, friendly smiles, and tugs John closer to him, resting his chin on the doctor’s head. T hey sit like this for a while, catching their breath, when suddenly, John maneuvers himself out of Sherlock’s hold, looking into the detective's eyes._

_“Hi.”_

_Sherlock grins. “Hi, John.”_

_John smiles, then his eyebrows furrow, a crease forming between his eyes. “You’re… really prettyyy,” John states matter-of-factly. Sherlock raises an eyebrow as John continues, “And you’re really smart too. Smarter than me. Smarter than everyone,” he adds softly, looking up at him in adoration. Sherlock hesitates. “John, I-”_

_“The wedding’s off, Sherlock,” John blurts out. “I couldn’t do it.”_

_Sherlock sits up. “What? But that’s what this whole thing was for.” John sits up too, albeit a bit slower. “Yeah… well, I know you planned this, so I didn’t want to cancel it. A nd I needed a good drink.” Sherlock frowns. “Well, you’ve certainly had more than that. You’re absolutely shit-faced.”_

_“Well, I kind of needed to be to admit to myself why I broke it off with her,” John said vaguely._

_Sherlock raises his eyebrows, intrigued. “And why would that be, John?”_

_John rests his head on Sherlock’s shoulder, drunkenly slouching again. “Well, it didn’t make any sense. I didn’t love her, so why would I marry her?”_

_The next innocent question would have brought Sherlock to his knees if he weren’t already sitting down. “Why aren’t we married, Sherlock?” John’s head tilted adorably as he asked this, genuinely puzzled about it. Sherlock stutters,"I-I, um-" he doesn't get a chance to say anything else before John lands a cautious kiss right on the genius' lips._

_Sherlock froze, and the kiss lasted several seconds before John started to pull back. Finally, Sherlock's brain started to respond, and he chases his blogger's lips into another kiss, leaning deeper into John, his mouth tasting and testing the waters, exploring his blogger. They separated to catch their breath, foreheads resting against each other. “I love you,” John breathed. “So much. Always have.”_

_Sherlock’s addled brain was trying to alert him with warning bells, but he ignored them, emotions and feelings spilling out of his mouth. “I love you too, John. I told you I didn’t feel that way for anyone but you changed everything. From the moment I met you, I knew you were different. You brought light into this dark flat and finally made it home. You’re the only one that ever made me feel loved. I wanna make you feel the same. I know you’re still upset about me leaving,” ** **dying,****  “but it was for you. They would have killed you, John.” Sherlock buries his head in John’s shoulder, arms tightening around the shorter man at the thought of him dying instead. “Everything I did was for you.”_

_Words just keep coming out, and he tells John all kinds of things, from his jealousy of Mary to what happened when he left ****died.** **   _

_John’s mouth is agape, staring at Sherlock in wonder before sealing them together with another searing kiss, and they lead each other to Sherlock’s bedroom._

In the morning, John wakes up with with the last faint memories of the two writhing, twisting in the sheets. He looks over next to him, only to find the space empty of Sherlock. He swallows hard. There’s no way that Sherlock left him, not after all of the things they said, surely?

John gets up, putting on boxers and his crumpled pair of pants that he found haphazardly thrown across the floor, along with a shirt found hanging on the back of a chair. It’s Sherlock’s, but at this point, John doesn’t care, and can’t think of anything but what was going to happen to them now.

He exits the room and heads to the kitchen, dread spreading through his body. Sherlock is sitting in his chair, hands steepled into his thinking position. John tries to remain calm as he goes to the kitchen to make their traditional morning tea, staying until it was finished, trying to clear his mind.

He pours the tea into two mugs and brings it in, setting one on the coffee table next to Sherlock and sipping at his own, waiting.

After a moment, Sherlock grabs his own mug and takes a long drink of tea. Soon he clears his throat, and John’s heart sinks.

“John,” he says slowly, almost delicately, as if he doesn’t want to scare John away with the inevitable rejection he’s about to receive. Oh well, might as well get it over with.

“I’m sorry,” Sherlock offers, and John chokes out a laugh, putting his tea on the table next to him. Sherlock continues despite the obvious anger of his flatmate, “Sometimes these things don’t, well, they just don’t work out.”

_“John, you should know that I consider myself married to my work.”_

“Fuck you, Sherlock. I told you-” he takes in a quick breath, “I told you how I felt. About _you.”_ He stands up, quickly moving to Sherlock’s chair and pulling him out of it by his shirt. “I told you I loved you, and _you said you felt the same._ You told me that you knew I was different from the beginning, that you hated watching me with Mary, that you faked your own death so that I’d still be alive. You dismantled a network of criminals for me. You killed people for me. You said that you would do all of it again if it meant that I was still standing here, alive, with you. How could you say that all of that if it isn’t true now?”

Sherlock looks down at the angry soldier and swallows hard.

“John, despite what it looks like, I am only human. I was intoxicated, and people say things they don’t mean-”

John cuts him off. “Don’t say that. Not to me.”

Sherlock looks at him curiously. “Say what?”

John shakes his head, jaw clenching, expression tight. “Don’t say you’re-” he chokes on the word, “-human.” He takes a deep breath. “Not after that.” John’s sentences are terse and short, and Sherlock is finally lost for words. John continues with an angry scowl, “And you can say that you regret it all you want, fine. Whatever. I regret everything. I regret all the fascination, the stupid pining, and I regret breaking off my wedding for a machine. You’re like the tin man without a heart, but I think you tore it out yourself. You don’t want a heart. You think it’s a disadvantage _ _,__ ” John says disgustedly.

John grabs his coat, shoving his arms into the sleeves as he heads towards the door. Two feet away from it, he hears Sherlock say, “You’re better off, you know. Without me.”

John turns to face him and shrugs. “Maybe. You let me down, Sherlock. So yeah, maybe I am. And you can say it, I don’t care. Say anything you want, but. Don’t. Say. _That.”_ He gives Sherlock a once over. The genius stares at the floor, head bowed, and his eyes won’t meet John’s. His hands are limp at his sides, and his body language defeated.

John's eyes linger on the detective, looking him up and down. “There’s no way, _no way,_ you’re human.”

John leaves and Sherlock does nothing to stop him.

 


End file.
